Haunting Of The Mental Asylum

There is a legend. About the mental asylum. It wasn’t in the middle of town as the hospital today or the church or any other place people used frequently. Instead, it stood on top of a very steep hill on the edge of town. As they smoked their pipes late at night, the village elders claimed that the insane didn’t always go there but that it was a normal hospital at one point. Suddenly, anyone who went there started going stark raving mad. A patient entered with a bad cold and the next thing you knew he was trying to kill his family. The elders said that it was the work of an angry spirit trying to get revenge. No one knew why.

It was mostly abandoned today. The village sent insane people there. No one took care of them. They just stayed locked up in the asylum until they died. But Cora was going to find out all about this legend. And she was going to need more information. She would have to go to the one patient who had made it out of the asylum unscathed despite staying for over a month. Mrs. Steeple lived on the very outskirts of town. She wandered into the village to buy groceries and then retreated to her cottage in the woods. Everyone was wary of her. No one tried to talk to her and rumors about her ran rampant, passed along the mouths of bored villagers. They said her house had a circle of dead grass around it and was covered in vines. Even the children didn’t dare each other to egg her house. If the asylum was the haunted house, then she was the wicked witch. However, Cora wanted answers and she was going to get them. How bad could a ratty old lady be anyway?

Not at all, it turns out. Cora crept up the path to Mrs. Steeple’s cottage. Her hair stood on end and her knees nearly buckled with each step. She closed her eyes as she neared the house until she bumped into the fence. When she opened her eyes she couldn’t believe her eyes. The cottage was beautiful and flowers bloomed on the window sills. Small animals played in the yard. It looked nothing like what the rumors claimed. Emboldened, she walked up to the front door a little more steadily. Raising her hand, she knocked softly. The woman who opened the door certainly wasn’t Mrs. Steeple. She couldn’t be! Mrs. Steeple had messy white hair and eyes sunken in deep. She looked crazy. This woman had her white hair in a complicated braid and her eyes shone with life despite her age. But the sign on the door said “Mrs. Steeple”.

“Hi! I’m Cora. I’m looking for Mrs. Steeple. I have a few questions.”

The woman’s eyes brimmed with amusement. “This is her. Come inside dear. You’re the first to visit me at my place in years. I’m sure I have cookies somewhere.”

Cora stepped inside but felt the need to mention, “But you look nothing like the Mrs. Steeple that comes into town.”

“Well dear, I have to keep people away. Otherwise, every single soul in the village would be knocking down my door asking how I survived. It’s better to let them think that I’m a little crazy and we just stay out of each other’s way. Tell me. What new rumors have popped up?”

“Well, we’re one lazy weekend away from you eating babies so…”

Mrs. Steeple broke down in fits of laughter. “And where I would I get said kids? Also, I don’t think my oven would fit one.” She then took in Cora’s horrified expression and remarked, “I love kids. It’s a pity more don’t visit. Not even for pranks.”

“Well, you’ve built up quite a reputation.” Cora took a seat on a stool next to the counter.

“I would imagine so. Here have some cookies. I have lots of time on my hands so I bake. Or cook. I can make a mean chicken soup. And some very pretty dresses.”

“I love chicken soup. But Mrs. Steeple, I did come here to ask: how did you make it out relatively safe and sound?”

Mrs. Steeple’s eyes darkened with sadness. “I’ll tell you on one condition. Promise me that you will visit again. That once you’re done sorting out this “mystery” you’ll come back for some fruitcake.”

“Well, you’ve thrown fruitcake into the mix now. Of course, I will return.” Both Cora and Mrs. Steeple smiled. She then handed Cora a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

“The rumors about a spirit are true. You have heard that when the patients go mad they try to kill their families, right? Well, they don’t try to kill their family. They try to kill their fathers. The spirit in that asylum is my daughter, Elaine. When she was admitted, my husband was a doctor in the mental ward. He thought she wasn’t going to survive so he experimented on her. By the time I found out it was too late. She had gone insane and her body had fought the infection and won. I thought it was just a twist of fate that she became crazy. When I was admitted to the hospital much, later on, she came into my room and told me all of that.”

“Spirits don’t exist though.”

“That’s what I thought. I thought I had gone crazy like the ones before me. But then she stuck a syringe in me and sent the doctors into an uproar. I had to believe it. I wasn’t hallucinating. I only saw her. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. I think that she showed herself to the others and then they couldn’t wrap their head around the idea of spirits actually existing so they went crazy.”

“That actually makes sense if you think about it. Well, I am already the crazy little girl of the village, may as well believe in spirits.”

“May as well.”

“But...how can we help her rest? She’s probably still there and still hurting.”

“Well, I have had plenty of time to think. What if she just wants acceptance from someone other than her mother? I am her mommy. I have to believe my little girl. But you, if you proved that you believed her then she might finally be at rest.”

Cora leaned back against the counter, empty mug in hand, and a contemplative expression on her face. The idea was a stretch but she had obsessed over this for a while. Maybe she could solve this and then her essays at school could be about more normal things. Okay, maybe she’d write one more about the mental asylum and then stop. Cora grinned, “Let’s try this!”

The next morning Cora stood right outside the huge metal gates built around the asylum. She took a deep breath. Spirits had been a hard concept to wrap her mind around. And the idea of helping banish one was even harder. But oh well, she’d always been different.

Cora gently pushed open the door set into a gate. It creaked slightly. No one had been sent up here in at least 30 years (since the mental ward had opened in the hospital). She pushed against the wooden entrance door. They were rusted shut. After about 5 minutes of determined shoving, cursing, and kicking, the doors flew open. Great job announcing your arrival Cora, Cora thought sarcastically.

Cora walked along hallways and rooms, marking corners and doors with chalk. As she entered the mental ward, a breeze rustled her hair. She froze and glanced around. She called out for Elaine. Another breeze blew past her. She kept going. As she went, marking doors and listening intently, she noticed a red door up ahead. It stood out among the now-blackened doors. She opened the door into a darkened room. The windows were covered in dust, blocking the sunlight. Cora fished out a flashlight and pointed it around. On the bed lay a lump.

“Elaine?”

“Hello, stranger.” Elaine’s voice was breathy and raspy. It sounded other-worldly but unused. “What brings you here? No one comes here anymore.”

“I know about all the things your father--”

“Do not speak of him!” Elaine had jerked upright. Fury and sadness fought each other in her eyes.

“You have to acknowledge his crimes, Elaine. Or you will never rest. Please. I know that this place is abandoned and there is really no point in forcing you to do anything. I definitely have no obligation. But some part of me wants to fix this. To help you rest. Maybe I am being selfish and just want to claim that I fixed the mental asylum. I don’t know. But I do know you have to make peace with what he did. You don’t have to forgive him. Just accept his actions.”

Elaine got up. Her eyes were emotionless. “Do you know what he did? Hmm? He strapped me to a table and poked around in my head. He cut out chunks of my brain. He messed with my eyes and my face. I was a toy for him to manipulate on his whim.”

As she spoke, Elaine started to fade out. With each recount, Elaine’s face relaxed. “He killed me at the end. And blamed it on the infection.” And then she disappeared completely.

Cora smiled, “Goodbye Elaine.”